


Rocky Road

by curliewurlie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Art, Coming of Age, Falling In Love, First Love, Homophobia, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mental Health Issues, Original Character(s), References to Depression, Slow Burn, this is a fun story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-06-24 21:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19731748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curliewurlie/pseuds/curliewurlie
Summary: it's 1996 and Cameron Taylor, 18, has just been diagnosed with depression. Although he argued that living alone with your mother in a tiny flat in Clapham would make anyone depressed, she insisted on following some shrink's advice and sending him to the National Gallery every week to 'keep his mind open' before he headed off to uni in September. There he met Jamie, who, without meaning to, would change Cam's life forever.A story about two boys battling their way through adulthood, homophobia and self-identity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cam meets the dream boy he never knew he dreamed about and asks him out for froyo.

It was bullshit, to be honest. No matter what happened I still think the whole art to help depression is dumb. I didn’t need to visit a shrink in Chelsea to know I was depressed, and I definitely didn’t need his advice about my mental state. What I really didn’t need, though, was him telling my mother that art can somehow make me happier and that I should try and go “as much as I can”. Trust me, oil paintings of Jesus in some stuffy room aren’t going to miraculously make me happy. I did try telling my mother this, but Annie insisted. So there I was, walking into the national gallery and searching for a will to live.

Wandering through the dark rooms I realised that my premonition was correct. Art sucks. I reached a room near towards the back of the museum with (thankfully) a lack of Asian tourist groups or bored school children and sigh with relief as I spot a bench in the centre. I sit down, my chin resting in my palm as I stare into space, straight ahead of me.

There was a painting of a load of people dancing hanging up on the wall in front of me. I checked the time on my phone. I thought to myself that if I just stayed there twelve more minutes, I could say I stayed for an hour and then mum’s money on the ticket hasn’t been wasted really-

“Nice, isn’t it?” Came a voice from next to me.

“Huh?” I replied dumbly, looking up.

“The piece. Underrated, I think.” Continued the voice, and I looked around to find the owner. He turned to me and my breath got caught in my throat. He was tall, taller than me, at least. He had blonde hair that fell partly over his forehead, tickling the frame of his glasses. He was wearing denim dungarees splattered with white, and bright orange converse. He looked like every modern gay cliché rolled into one, but for once, I kind of liked it.

“Uh…I don’t really know.” I shrugged, turning around to look at the painting, fiddling with my shirt sleeves. “Kind of simple, isn’t it?”

“Simple?” he scoffed. “This? Not at all. It’s called _The Dance of Life_ , right? Look at all the couples, what do you think they’re thinking about?” He asked, his eyes bright as he turned back to look at me.

“Um… maybe what they’re having for dinner?” I tried humour. Big mistake. I’m not funny. The guy bit his lip and turned back to the canvas.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Just- look at their faces, okay? What are they looking at?”

“Each other?” I tried.He turned to me, his eyes bright.

“Go on…”

“Just each other, actually, no one else. It’s… like they’re fascinated with each other. Like they can’t see anything else.” I turned back to look at tall guy and swallowed as I saw him smiling at me.

“Exactly... yes.” He said softly, “It’s like they don’t care about anyone but each other, they’re so infatuated with their own dance, with their own lives, with each other, that they don’t care what anyone else thinks or says. They don’t care about who’s watching. S’true love, I think. That’s what Munch has painted. He’s managed to take something so unexplainable, so- so unusual. Taken it and made it look so unbelievably effortless. Like it’s not the hardest thing in the world.” His voice had faded to a horse whisper. I didn’t know quite what to say.

“You seem to know a lot about this painting.” Is what I went with. “Did you study it in school or something?”

He chuckled, shaking his head and getting up from where he had sat down next to me halfway through his speech. “This piece of art is my favourite thing on earth.” He replied honestly, turning to face me and smiling. “I’ve followed it around the globe. Started six years ago when I saw it in New York with my mum on holiday. S’pretty special seeing it in my home town.” He grinned.

I could see the passion in his face, his eyes shining with excitement as he turned back to look at the painting. In that moment, I wanted to know everything about this boy. I wanted to know why he followed a piece of canvas all around the world, why he dressed like he was an extra in an indie film. I wanted to know how long he’d had glasses and why his mum wasn’t with him staring at this painting he seemed to love so much. I wanted to kiss him, to feel his arms around me, to do things I’ve never thought about doing before. Fuck, I don’t even know his name and I’m already fantasising about him.

“I’m Cameron, by the way.” I said hurriedly, thrusting my hand towards him.

“Jamie.” He smiled softly, shaking my hand.

His hands are pretty too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short, but it's just a lil taster for my new story :) Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron learns more about Jamie than he thought he would. Cam straddles a lion.

Jamie was looking back at the painting and I wondered what he was thinking about. This feeling of wonder whilst I watched him never faded, and I still got it when I looked at him, all the way to the end. But we’ll get to that. I had never asked a boy out before, I hadn’t ever really wanted to. But looking at Jamie’s eyes shine as he talked about his favourite painting sparked feelings within me I had never felt which is perhaps why I found the courage to ask-

“Hey uh- do you want to grab like uh- a frozen yogurt maybe? With uh- with me?” I asked and Christ I have never sounded so pathetic. Why didn’t I just ask him out for a coffee like a normal person?

“A frozen yogurt? Sure!” He grinned, looking down at me in delight and I think my heart did a little flip. “I know a great place not so far from here, do you want to go now?” He asked, offering a hand for me to get up which I accepted a little too eagerly. 

“Sure.” I replied, a little shy all of a sudden because Jamie’s dimples were on full show and to be honest, I wasn’t prepared for that. The frozen yogurt place was about fifteen minutes away, and Jamie and I walked through trafalgar square to start with, where he wasn’t hesitant to show off his history knowledge. If I could recall any of the information he told me I would gladly tell you. Unfortunately, I spent most of that walk watching his lips move and his eyes crinkle up in smiles to actually pay attention to the (i’m sure) deeply fascinating historical knowledge that I was being fed. 

“So, Cameron.” He grinned and I licked my lips a little nervously as he looked up at me. “Why were you sitting in quite possibly the most interesting room in London looking like you’d rather be anywhere else?” He asked in a teasing tone, raising and eyebrow. I swallowed. I wanted to explain about how my mum thought it would get my mood up, and how I couldn’t bare to say no after she’d given up so much for me in these last few months. And how maybe, just a little, I’d wanted the whole ‘art makes you happy thing to actually work. I couldn’t explain that though. It was too early and Jamie’s far too lovely for me to scare him off straight away. 

“Just- fancied a look.” I said with what I hoped was a confident smile. “Mum has always loved art so she thought I should start appreciating it too.” At least that bit was true. My mum had always adored art, and her mum did too. I think I bucked the trend in the art appreciation department but at least I went to a gallery?

“Yeah?” He smiled excitedly. “What kind of stuff is she into?” 

Christ. I really should have paid attention when I was hanging up those paintings for mum the other day. There were- colours? Can I say that? Don’t all paintings have colours? “Uh- colourful ones?” I squeaked and Jamie burst out laughing, throwing his head back and I’m pretty sure that image trumped anything that was hanging in the national gallery.  
“Colourful ones?” He spluttered, his eyes shining. “You’re not much of an arty guy, are you, Cam?” He teased, and I blushed, shrugging. 

“Working on it.” I replied, gesturing back to the National Gallery that was now a way behind us. 

“Well- never too late to start.” Jamie grinned and I nodded, rubbing my neck a little shyly and almost walking straight past the frozen yogurt shop on the side of the road. “This is my favourite place ever.” He smiled eagerly, and I could see why. Colour changing orbs covered the ceiling and low plastic stools were scattered next to matching low tables, with a long bench stretching through the middle. “It’s so yummy- plus the guys in here are always really cute.” He teased, nudging me and I laughed. After we got our dessert he led me out again, starting to walk down the cobblestone street. “So, Cameron,” He smiled and Christ my name sounded gorgeous coming from his mouth. “I want to know about you.”

Me? What do I even say? There’s honestly nothing interesting I can think of, all I do is eat tangy cheese Doritos and binge watch comedy box sets. I can’t exactly tell Jamie this, he’s clearly a very cultured guy who’s looking for more than some looser having a midlife crisis at 19. “Uh- I draw?” I said, rubbing my neck and smiling sheepishly at him. “Now and again, it’s- it’s not like, a consistent hobby?” Yes. Because that’s definitely a thing, well done, Cam. 

“Yeah? What kind of things do you draw?” He asked in interest, licking the orange frozen yogurt off his spoon. He went for mango and I chose chocolate hazelnut. 

“People mainly.” I smiled shyly, glancing around at the people passing us. We’d managed to make our way to St James’ park and I followed Jamie and sat on the grass. “I like watching people.” I said and cringed immediately at how creepy that sounded. “Not like- not in a weird way!” I added quickly, my eyes wide. “Just-“

“People are interesting.” Jamie smiled softly, nodding and looking at me. “I get it. I can’t draw- I wish I could. You’re so lucky having a talent like that.” He spoke softly and my heart clenched a little because no-one has ever spoken to me like that or given me the same attentive gaze that Jamie seems to gives out so easily. 

“I’d- I’d hardly call it a talent.” I swallowed, rubbing my neck shyly. “I’m not very good- I just enjoy it.” I blushed and he grinned at me, digging around in his bag. “Draw me!” He said eagerly, handing me a plain page notebook and a black biro. “Please?” And I couldn’t say no. Even then, Jamie had me completely wrapped around his little finger. I took the notebook and hesitantly opened it.   
“What should I do?” He teased, stretching out. “Should I be a French girl or candid?” He laughed, laying back on the grass. 

“Just like that is fine.” I blushed, sitting cross legged and starting to draw. Now, my drawings skills aren’t terrible, but I usually didn’t have the added pressure of a gorgeous boy in front of me. I didn’t think Jamie was the kind of person to laugh if it turned out terribly- well, not at me anyway. Then again, I had only known this boy for about half an hour. As I started to draw him, I began to notice things about the boy that weren’t apparent before. He was undeniably handsome, sure, with a jawline that could cut bread and hair that could rival Romeo, but also had a sort of innocence to him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. His eyes were hazel and winked at me in-between bites of frozen yogurt but I couldn’t help but notice a small scar right under his eye on his right side. 

“What’s that scar?” I asked softly as I kept my gaze focussed on the notebook in front of me. “Above your eye, I mean.” When there was silence for a few seconds I looked up from shading his hairline and frowned to see the conflict on Jamie’s face. “Hey- I’m sorry.” I said hurriedly. “No need to answer- I just noticed it that’s all.” Jamie shook his head, forcing a smile.   
“It’s cool, just an accident when I was a kid.” He waved his hand. “How’s that drawing coming along?” And I bit my lip. I could draw, I know I could draw. But for some reason I couldn’t manage to mimic the beauty in front of me into this A5 piece of paper. 

“Uh- it’s coming.” I swallowed, blinking in surprise as Jamie reached forward and grabbed the paper from me. 

“Hey- this is amazing!” He grinned, his face lighting up. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually be able to draw! Where did you learn?” This interest in me was not something I was expecting and it was my turn for conflict to flash across my face. 

“Uh- I guess I’ve always drawn.” I said, shrugging. “It’s a working process, you know- creative stuff. I want to be an illustrator one day but- its very competitive, you know?” I blushed. Why am I blushing? “I don’t know how realistic that is.”

“I would read any book you illustrate.” Jamie smiled sweetly, his voice dripping with sincerity. “Seriously! I bet you’d be an amazing children’s book illustrator. Or maybe a graphic novel or something! Something exciting. I’d read them.” My heart fluttered. People had encouraged me before, sure. My mum, my counsellor. But no-one had ever had so much passion about something I did, other than me, I guess, before Jamie. I think, in hindsight, that’s why I fell so fast for him. 

“Thank you.” I smiled, shaking my head with a blush still present on my cheeks. “When my first book comes out I’ll dedicate it to you.” I teased. “To Jamie, for always believing in me.” I said in a mock-serious voice, grinning widely when Jamie laughed. 

“You better.” He nudged my side, eating some of his yogurt and smiling widely over at me. Christ. Boys aren’t supposed to look as pretty as Jamie. Not in a random frozen yogurt shop in Covent Garden in three in the afternoon. 

“Mhm.” I swallowed, fumbling to put my notebook away before stopping as Jamie’s hand quickly rested on mine. 

“Wait.” He said softly. “Let me keep it, please? As a memento for when you’re some famous illustrator and you’ve forgotten all about me.” He teased and I laughed, shaking my head as I tore the page out of my notebook. 

“Could never forget about you.” I shrugged honestly, smiling candidly at him and he blinked in surprise before smiling back at me a little shyly. After that we chatted for hours, honestly staying in the fluorescent lighting of the shop before leaving and walking slowly over the cobblestones of Covent Garden. Jamie told me about growing up in Hackney and how his brother went to boarding school but he wanted to stay with his mum. He didn’t mention his dad and I didn’t ask. He told me he always loved art and his ‘obsession’ as he called it started quite young, when he made a papier maché mosaic in year four. His eyes lit up as he told me about it, about how glue was on his fingers for weeks afterwards and the tissue paper died his fingers green. 

“I’d do it all again though.” He said dreamily. “To have that feeling of discovery, of finding something you love. I’d go through everything again. Just to feel that.” He nodded before swallowing, something flashing through his eyes. “Anyway.” He shrugged, after primary school art became more of a pastime. I need to concentrate on exams and stuff- you know how school is.” He waved his hand, forcing a smile. We had got to trafalgar square and he looked up at Nelson’s column, shaking his head before glancing towards the monument in the middle. “Have you ever ridden one of the lions?” He asked, not waiting for an answer before he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards one of the lion sculptors. “Come on, I’ll take your picture.” He said fondly and I rubbed my neck, blushing a little before clambering up onto one of the lions, awkwardly straddling its back. “Gorgeous, darling.” He called up teasingly, taking a Polaroid before beckoning me down. When I had got to the bottom he showed me the photo and I nodded awkwardly to which he rolled his eyes, taking my hand again. “Let’s go, sunshine.” He grinned and I swallowed heavily, quickly following with pink cheeks as he pulled me back towards the National Gallery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! :)


End file.
